


abrahams daughter

by andromedaries



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Child Abuse, Fire Nation Royal Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai's A+ Parenting, POV Alternating, POV Azula (Avatar), azulon's assassination, ozai is like u should be glad i only traumatized u half as much as my parents traumatized me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25006378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedaries/pseuds/andromedaries
Summary: what azula was up to while her brother was being led to the altarwhat if the scheme that spared him was her idea?inspired by the song by arcade fire(mostly from azula's pov but some from ozai's - if that bothers you, very understandable, pls skip this fic if that's the case)
Relationships: Azula & Ozai (Avatar), Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Azulon & Ozai (Avatar), Ozai/Ursa (Avatar)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40





	abrahams daughter

**Author's Note:**

> i've gone back and forth about posting this, because this is such a difficult topic... i know a lot of people are opposed to reading anything from ozai's perspective because they don't want to humanize someone who is obviously a horrible child abuser, and that is completely valid. if that's how you feel, this might not be the fic for you.
> 
> i wrote it because it got into my head how utterly horrifying it is for a parent to force their child to kill their own child, and it made me think the relationship between azulon and ozai might not have been so different from the one between ozai and zuko, or ozai and azula. the fire nation royal family's culture of horrible abuse was a vicious cycle, and ozai didn't stop it, and i don't think azula would have either if zuko hadn't intervened. maybe the only thing that makes azula redeemable is that she had fewer years of indoctrination already poisoning her. 
> 
> that said, i also don't think azula wanted her brother dead until after her friends turned against her and her unraveling began. i think she found him useful, and even if she'd never admit it, i think she still had some lingering fondness just from being siblings.
> 
> anyway. the song abrahams daughter by arcade fire reminds me of azula, because of a brother being killed by a father and because of not being given a name of her own (azula's life was never hers to live). i took the song parallels one step further and imagined the intervention that spared zuko to be her idea (albeit in a pretty anti-hero kinda way)

She was born when the days were lengthening, and the breaking sun of early spring was shining in her golden eyes exactly the way it was meant to. She was a spare, not the heir, the second child princess to a second child prince. And yet her eyes held that prodigious spark, the one missing when his first son had come squalling into the world against a blistering cold storm two Novembers ago. Now Ozai’s relief was tangible, now that after two distressing years of waiting and hoping Zuko’s spark would surface yet, it no longer mattered that it was still absent, now that a child so eminently worthy of a Firelord’s name was born. He named her for his own father, because Azulon was still stubbornly refusing to realize that some second children were worthier of the crown than firstborns. 

And who knew? Maybe his son would show some promise yet. It never hurt to have a spare. There would be plenty of time to sort out his own successors after he had devised a way around his own brother. 

Ozai bided his time, waiting for the moment of opportunity. He hated waiting, always had. Nine years he waited, composure impeccable, patience underneath it thinner every day. Then the crown prince Iroh lost his son and abandoned his siege and the moment is finally upon him. Ozai knew he must tread carefully - Azulon had always disdained his younger son in favor of his firstborn, despite a lack of any disparity of strength or merit to justify such a preference. He would no doubt let this irrational partiality blind him to Iroh’s clearly compromised capacity to lead the nation, and persuading him would be a delicate business. But now there was a factor that even Azulon’s blatantly unfounded favoritism couldn’t ignore: Iroh had no heir, and no living wife to provide another. And yet from the looks of it, even Ozai’s nine year old daughter was figuring out what that meant faster than his father. Ursa had mentioned a while back that little Azula was already showing early signs of ambition to match her prodigious firebending abilities. Already taking after her father. Perhaps she’d even be useful when the time came to rearrange birthrights with her own brother. 

There would be time for that later. Now Ozai needed to focus on his request to his father. He’d need careful words for the choleric old man - it wouldn’t help to invoke his ire with thoughtlessness, nor to show the weakness of fear - but the iron was hot. It was time to strike. 

\-----

Azula watched from the crack in the doorway long after her brother had fled. She watched her father make his request, and watched him get the timing all wrong. She watched her old grandfather’s face as the realization of what was being asked broke the impatience into fury, and she knew it would be bad. She figured she’d have to do some damage control. 

She paced slowly through the less-trafficked halls of the palace, sifting through her thoughts. She hadn’t expected it to be this bad. 

She had paid close attention to her father, and had picked up on his plan even before her mother had. Ursa knew her husband envied the crown, but she had not guessed at what he would do about it. Azula had. Azula had seen it years away, because it was what must also happen with her own older brother when the time came. Neither Azula nor Ozai had ever intended Zuko as the crown’s successor - and, she thought with a mirthless laugh, evidently neither had Azulon. The one time her father actually agreed with his father about something, and yet he still managed to invoke Azulon’s wrath over it. The irony was not lost on her.

She had always known she’d need Zuko out of the way- that much was obvious. But her namesake, as usual, was wielding blunt force where a precision instrument was needed. Between his willingness to waste his own royal blood and his backwards obsession with the birthright of firstborns, he was really starting to lose touch.

She mulled over what to do with this recent turn of events.

She could simply do nothing. She could sit back as the way was cleared for her to be the Firelord. Who knew when another opportunity would come? 

But then, her brother would be dead. Not just declawed and cast aside like Uncle, but dead… where he could no longer bear the blame for her mistakes, no longer take the heat that she was safe from as long as things were his fault instead, no longer make her imperfections look perfect by comparison?

Azula stomped down the cold trickle of fear running down her spine. No, that wouldn’t do at all. 

What could she do then? She couldn’t contradict the Firelord. She couldn’t warn Zuko - what would he even do if she did, run away and find some earth kingdom peasants to take him in? She almost laughed at that - it might suit him, honestly. He may be hopeless as a bender, but still, royal blood shouldn’t be wasted. But warning him was too risky - even she’d feel the heat for that. 

She was still mulling it over when footsteps began approaching from down the darkened hallway. Her feet reacted before she’d decided what to do, darting toward Zuko’s room.

“It's time for a talk,” Ursa snapped. She could feel her mother’s hand shaking where it gripped her arm, dragging her away from her brother.

Ursa slammed the door behind them when they got back to Azula’s room. “Azula, this is _ no _ time to be taunting your brother about something that is  _ not _ going to happen. Why would you even  _ think _ -“

“Not going to happen? What are you going to do then? Just say ‘hm, no thanks’ to the Firelord? You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t kill you too!”

“I don’t know why you even heard this. But the Firelord will see reason,” Ursa said, voice breaking.

“He won’t and you know it. Now that cousin Lu Ten is dead, the crown will go to me or Zuko. Do you really think Dad or Grandpa ever intended Zuko to have it?”

Azula watched her mother’s face, stricken first with realization, followed by pain and rage, and felt the pieces of an idea starting to form in her mind. Perhaps her mother’s warm fuzzies for Zuko (excessive really, Azula told herself, their displays of affection were undignified) could work in her favor for once. 

She didn’t ask whether her father intended to go through with it. (Because that was irrelevant, she told herself. Not because she didn’t want to know the answer.) But her mother certainly didn’t intend to allow it. 

“What are you going to do?” Azula asked conversationally. She watched her mother’s eyes. A stranger would only see Fire Nation Royalty composure, but Azula knew all too well what lay behind it. Ursa was pushing through panic, forcing her racing thoughts into line. 

Azula had thought of a way her father could secure the throne, even after how thoroughly he’d butchered his Plan A already. And her mother just might go along with it, because coincidentally, it would also spare Zuko, for the time being. She’d have plenty of time later to get Zuzu out of the way, her own way. 

“You could always just kill Azulon.” 

The plan worked even better than she expected. Not only did she secure her father’s place on the throne, her own place in her father’s confidence, and her brother’s place just below her where she could keep standing on his shoulders - her mother also took all the agency and all the blame, accepted her banishment, and got out of Azula’s way. 

Banishment turned out to be a pretty good idea. She’d have to chat with her father about that later. Maybe one of these days Zuzu could go join their precious mother, since she loved him so much more. 

\-----

It’s strange, Ozai thinks, realizing you’ve been married to someone for 16 years, and finding out you never really knew them at all. 

He wonders where Ursa is now. He wonders if she’s thinking the same thing. He almost wonders if he made the right choice. But he had no choice. A willing assassin offering their services to clear his way to the throne was an offer he couldn’t refuse. And anyone willing to poison one Firelord must be cast out before they have the chance to poison another. 

Especially if that assassin might have some seditious opinions about who the Firelord after you should be. 

Even if that assassin is the wife you loved. The wife you thought loved you. The wife who loved your foolish son more. Enough to trade you for him. Who’s to say she wouldn’t do it again, when the time came to rearrange their own heirs? She had clearly figured out he meant for Azula to succeed him, and would clearly disagree with that decision - at best she’d make herself a nuisance about it, at worst… she might find her poison again. 

You traded her, too. She was the price of the crown. And she was the price of the spare son, who seemed to only get weaker without her around to coddle him, against all logic. 

For the crown, the trade was worth it. For the spare son, you aren’t so sure. 

\-----

A lot could change in two years. Azula hadn’t expected how much more fun it would be to mess with Zuzu now that Mother wasn’t there to coddle him while snapping at her. She had anticipated her father’s confidences in her growing, but she hadn’t considered the equal but opposite reaction that would fall on her brother. Ozai had always been a bit paranoid behind closed doors, but lately he’d been letting those lapses of composure slip through the cracks, and more and more often they were landing on Zuko. Her brother really ought to have toughened up by now between the two of them, but he only shrank away more with Mother gone, and it was really getting irritating to watch him grovel the way he did. She’d been waiting for him to finally be provoked into defending himself one of these days, but it was becoming apparent that more drastic measures would be needed… and soon.

With Sozin’s Comet approaching, it was clear the war would be won soon, and she knew she needed to have her inheritance straightened out by then. Most of her people knew merit and strength were their own right to power, but some - the stodgy old ones like her grandfather, mostly - might see her ascension and not recognize it for as justified as it was. When they didn’t have war to hold their attention, they’d love a power-grab accusation to fill up their self-righteous heads. It was laughable, honestly - if there was anything that had always been hers, rightfully, without question, it was power.

But the fact remained that something needed to be done about Zuko. Soon.

Banishment was the obvious solution, but the time had come to work out the details. She’d meet with her father about it tonight. 


End file.
